COLD OPEN – MATTHEWS HALLWAY – DUSK
A knock. Ava peeks out from across-the-hall, holding foil-wrapped something.
Ava: August! Come over in ten? Night three. Latkes are plentiful.
August: I bring applesauce and sour cream to honor both great houses.
Ava: Diplomatic immunity granted. Dress code: cozy.
Cory (poking out their door): What’s the policy on dads?
Ava: Open-door, closed-mouth during blessings.
Topanga (grabbing briefcase): I’ll try to make it after my hearing.
Ava: We’ll save you a latke and a miracle.
Smash to titles.
ACT ONE
SCENE A – AVA’S APARTMENT – EARLY EVENING (A-PLOT START)
Warm lights, a menorah set safely by the window. Ava’s mom (wry, kind) finishes grating potatoes; a plate of sufganiyot (jelly donuts) beckons.
Ava: Welcome to night three. Contents: oil, joy, debate about toppings.
August: I come bearing bipartisan condiments.
Ava’s Mom: Put them near the latke diplomacy station. (to August) You good with the order? We light the shamash, we do the blessings, we light three.
August: I practiced the melody. Softly. Alone. In a closet.
Ava (proud): My interfaith king.
They gather. Ava’s mom lights the shamash. Together they chant the blessings (we hear the cadence, not every word), then light three candles. A small quiet. Glowy.
August (soft): Thanks for letting me be part of this.
Ava’s Mom: Thanks for showing up. That’s the miracle no one writes down.
Ava: Okay! Latkes. Spin tops. Friendly gambling with chocolate.
August: Dreidel diplomacy. I’m ready.
SCENE B – ROCKEFELLER CENTER RINK – TWILIGHT
Outdoor string lights, rental skates, a sign: “NO HOCKEY STOPS.” Shawn laces up with practiced speed; Katy ties neatly; Cory has on a helmet, wrist guards, and terror.
Shawn: You got this, Mr. History-on-Ice.
Cory: The last time I skated, it was a roller rink and I was trying to get Topanga to hold my hand.
Katy: That worked out.
Cory: I fell. She laughed. Then held my hand.
They push off. Cory shuffles, clutches the wall, narrates his demise. Shawn loops back, steady as a childhood.
Shawn: Bend your knees. Trust the glide.
Cory: What if the glide doesn’t trust me?
Shawn takes his hand. They make a wobbly, perfect lap.
SCENE C – COURTHOUSE CONFERENCE ROOM – SAME TIME
Topanga closes a laptop before a panel, calm and exact.
Topanga: We’re not asking for special treatment. We’re asking for equal access. That’s the law. My client can sign today. Or we litigate tomorrow.
Opposing counsel blinks. Panel confers. A clock ticks past “dinnertime.”
Topanga glances at her phone—Cory’s “skating!” selfie; Ava’s “candles lit!” photo. She smiles, steels, keeps going.
ACT TWO
SCENE D – AVA’S APARTMENT – LATER
Dreidel spins. Gelt clinks. Ava demolishes a latke with applesauce like a poet; August tries both toppings at once like a heretic.
Ava: Monster.
August: Visionary.
Ava’s Mom: Peace in this house. Both are fine. (beat) Not on the sofa.
They open a tiny tzedakah jar.
Ava: Festival-of-Lights challenge: we donate what we’d spend on a movie to the pantry. Lights should reach beyond the windowsill.
August: Love it. Also, I made you a thing. (hands over a Kindness Cord braided in blue and silver) Limited edition: “Ner Neshama”—you light up souls.
Ava melts.
Ava’s Mom: You two are dangerously wholesome.
Another knock—Cory appears, cheeks pink from the cold, skates slung over his shoulder.
Cory: I come in peace. And near-concussion.
Ava: Latke triage incoming.
They feed him. He sighs the sigh of a man saved by fried.
SCENE E – RIVER RINK SIDELINES – NIGHT
Shawn/Katy hold cocoa, watch couples and chaos.
Shawn: Felt you texting me encouragement with your brain.
Katy: I was texting you snacks with my brain. (soft) You’re glowing. Election glow. Best-friend glow. Winter glow.
Shawn: And flannel. Never underestimate the power of flannel.
Phone buzz: Topanga “running long” message. Cory thumbs back a selfie from Ava’s: “I’m fed. I’m loved. Light stuff later?” Three heart emojis.
Katy: We can swing by after and deposit you on a couch.
Shawn: Preferably ours. Our couch has seen things.
They clink cocoa.
SCENE F – COURTHOUSE – NIGHT
Topanga wins a hard motion… with conditions.
Panel Chair: We’ll sign this tonight if you accept the revised timeline.
Topanga: My client… accepts. (text to Cory: “Late late. Save me a donut?”)
She pulls out a little travel menorah from her briefcase. A colleague notices.
Colleague: You going to light here?
Topanga: After this is filed. Light where you are, right?
She smiles, gets back to work. (We don’t need to see every word. We see resolve.)
ACT THREE
SCENE G – SHAWN & KATY’S APARTMENT – LATE NIGHT
Door opens. Cory shuffles in with skates, hat, and the biggest yawn known to man.
Katy: Couch, blanket, cocoa.
Shawn: We’ve got the good throw. The one that forgives.
Cory (already horizontal): I promised Topanga dinner. I will stay awake to kiss her hello like a hero.
Katy: That’s a big promise for a small human.
He’s out in ten seconds, snoring gently. Shawn snaps a picture with the tenderness of a brother who remembers too many nights like this.
SCENE H – AVA’S HALLWAY / APARTMENT – SAME NIGHT
August stands by the open door, sipping water, watching the candles burn low.
Ava: Favorite part?
August: The quiet between blessings and latkes. Feels like… the room taking a deep breath.
Ava: Favorite part for me is doing it with my people. (beat) Which includes you.
Ava’s Mom (gathering plates): Take sufganiyot across the hall for Topanga. Lawyer fuel.
August: Delivery boy engaged.
They clink gelt like cheers.
SCENE I – SHAWN & KATY’S LIVING ROOM – LATER
Door clicks. Topanga slips in, hair windblown, eyes tired-bright. She sees Cory starfished on the couch, yipping in a blanket fort.
Topanga (whisper): Tell me he ate.
Katy (whisper): Latke surplus. He even conquered the rink.
Shawn (whisper): Kinda. In spirit.
Topanga kneels, kisses Cory’s forehead. He stirs, smiles sleepily.
Cory: You won?
Topanga: We won enough. Big stuff continues tomorrow. (soft) Sorry I missed dinner.
Cory: You made the world a sliver gentler. I had latkes. We’re even.
Topanga pulls a tiny travel menorah from her bag, sets it on the coffee table. Shawn dims lights. Katy brings two tea lights.
Topanga: We’re very late, but… want to borrow a night?
Cory: Always.
They light—quiet, simple. No speeches. Just four grown-ups and a soft couch, faces warm in candlelight.
TAG – MATTHEWS HALLWAY – NEXT MORNING
August tapes a little sign between the two doors: “LIGHTS TRAVEL.” Below it, a shoebox labeled “PANTRY DONATIONS (HANUKKAH EDITION)” is already half-full.
Ava slips out with a sticky note: “Applesauce or sour cream: both is valid. —Ms. Morgenstern.” She winks. They high-five.
Across the hall, Topanga opens their door with a lawyer mug; Cory in a scarf; all exchange sleepy smiles.
Cory: Last night: small light, big win.
Ava: That’s Hanukkah. And life.
They head out into the cold, a little brighter than they were.
END.